


Madness

by Blue_Iris



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Alternate Universe - Steampunk, F/F, F/M, Lovecraftian, Mad Science, Other, Pulp Science Fiction, Science Fiction, Somewhat, Steampunk elements, Supernatural Elements, Weird Biology, some elements of, this will be cheesy not going to lie, weird science
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-10-05
Updated: 2013-10-05
Packaged: 2017-12-28 12:26:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/991992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blue_Iris/pseuds/Blue_Iris
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The year is 1900, the dawn of a new century—a new age of progress in medicine and the sciences. On the cobblestoned city of New York lurks a man willing to boldly advance in areas of science that his colleagues wouldn’t dare touching. Alongside him is his personal assistant (and maid), who often finds herself being a subject or participant in his experiments.</p>
<p>In other words: An anthology of sorts concerning the adventures of Mad Scientist!America & Assistant!Fem!England, as well as an ensemble cast of fellow scientists, explorers, and creatures we might not yet be ready to meet face to face.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Madness

Under the awning of a store, a young newsboy cries out to everyone walking by, holding a stack of newspapers under his armpit and one in his hand. It’s a cold and stormy day, a day he would rather spend back home with a hot bowl of his mother’s stew and the warmth of his fireplace—if his father was able to get some firewood for the rest of the week, of course—but someone has to get the news out to the public. It might as well be him.

“Extra, extra, read all about it!” he says. “Grave robber strikes again in local cemetery! Coppers in a tizzy looking for suspects!”

A young woman with an umbrella and a dark overcoat takes out some coins from her purse and holds them out, coaxing the newsboy to grin. He hands her the newspaper and tips his hat.

“Thanks, ma’am!”

She nods and gives him a smile in turn, and then she walks away, lowering her umbrella to hide her face and further protect her from the pouring rain. The boy finds it a little eerie how silent she was, how easily she just vanishes in the crowd—but then he shrugs. There are always going to be odd people in New York. One more isn’t going to hurt anyone.

He takes out another newspaper from the pile under his arm and holds it out to the public.

“Extra, extra, read all about it—!”

* * *

 The heels of her shoes clack against the street as she does her best to quickly maneuver through the crowd and make her way home. She doesn’t want to stay outside for long, especially after what happened last night. Plus, she still needs to make breakfast for her boss and his pet—especially the pet. Wilson turns absolutely demonic when he doesn’t get breakfast on time.

When she takes a left turn onto another street, she sees the house immediately. It is a three story red mansion with five chimneys that peak high from the roof. The estate itself was huge, taking up at least an eighth of the neighborhood. Some have argued, including herself, that the house looked more like a castle than a home, an ominous one at that. Lightning strikes the sky above it, quickly followed by a roll of thunder, making the house look even more off putting.

Home sweet home.

She walks up the steps, takes out her key, and opens the door. When inside, she is greeted with noise that is coming from the cellar, the doctor’s workshop. As she removes her coat and hangs it up, she finds herself smiling at the familiar sound. She then makes her way into the kitchen.

First, she makes Wilson’s breakfast, because his is easiest. She takes out a huge eel from the ice box and then starts chopping it into many meaty cubes. After putting the meat into a big silver bowl, she takes out some shrimp and mixes the fish together with a wooden spoon. In another bowl, she pours a good amount of salt water. Satisfied, she smiles at the meal, puts both bowls on a silver tray, and then picks it up.

Knowing precisely where the doctor’s pet would be at this hour, she goes and slowly walks up the stairs. Once on the landing, she turns right and heads into the library. She can’t see him, not with all this maze of literature in the way, so she decides to call for him.

“Wilson,” she says, making her voice gentle. “Are you hungry, love? I have breakfast here.”

At first, there is silence. Then there is a sound, the sound of wet flesh smacking against each other, and then something rubbery being pulled from the floor. A bulbous, greenish head peaks out from behind a bookshelf, followed by one golden eye. The creature lets out a squawk at the familiar face and pulls itself out of its hiding place completely, revealing eight tentacles, a black bowler hat on its head, and another golden eye covered with a monocle. When it sees that she is holding her breakfast, the octopus claps its tentacles with glee and then makes its way over to her.

She smiles down at Wilson, and then sets down the tray in front of him. He immediately reaches out a tentacle and grabs a piece of eel, and then he immediately draws it in to start chomping on it with fervor, splashing a bit of coagulated blood onto the wooden floor. If this had been six months ago, she would have screamed and ran away—but there are some things one gets used to, even comfortable with. Never in her years did she ever think she’d ever feed a pet octopus, though.

“Just take the tray down when you’re done,” she tells him.

Wilson pauses in his eating to tip his bowler hat at her before she turns to leave.

She goes back downstairs and into the kitchen. She goes to the sink and washes her hands with warm water, soap, and a dash of cleaning alcohol—she just handled blood, after all—and then she goes to the stove to prepare the doctor’s breakfast.

She doesn’t like to admit it, but she’s never been one for cooking. She never had to learn to cook before, not until what happened in England a year ago. That being said, making big meals was often difficult for her. The doctor’s tastes were simple though, at least during the morning. Two eggs, sausage, jam on toast, and a hot cup of black coffee would do for today.

After making sure the food is done (and doesn’t look like “a pile of poison”, as her boss exaggerates), she also sets it on a silver tray and heads towards the cellar entrance. Seeing that the door was open a crack, she reaches her foot out and pulls the door open. Once it’s open enough, she starts a slow walk down the stairs. The workshop is quiet now, which makes her a little worried.

“Doctor?” she says, feeling hesitant. “Doctor Jones?”

When she doesn’t get an answer, she sets the tray down on one of the few bare tables in the room. Adjacent to the table is another one, one that is long and rectangular. On it is a big jar-like container with yellow fluid inside it; around it is a contraption of pumps and electrical conduits. Inside the container is a head—the head of a young woman with blond hair that is very similar to Doctor Jones. On either side of her neck were two bolts wired to the conduits outside of the jar; at the base was a steel box that was fused to the bottom of the container.

An electric pulse goes through the head, coaxing it to move. The head opened its eyes—revealing them to be a violet color—and it looked over at her. The head smiled.

“Hi, Elizabeth!” she greets, her voice slightly garbled by the fluid and glass. “How are you this morning?”

Elizabeth smiles. “Very well, thank you. And you, Miss Madeline?”

Madeline tilts her head as best as she can. “Same old, same old. Can’t really complain.” Seeing the food on the other table, she glances at the other side of the room, then looks back at Elizabeth. “Alfred’s at his desk. He’s working on the big surprise for tonight,” Madeline adds with a toothy grin.

Though she wants to shudder, Elizabeth instead returns the smile and nods. She has yet to grow used to being around Madeline, despite how sweet the girl is.

“Thank you.”

When she walks over to the desk, Elizabeth certainly finds the doctor sitting there. His blue eyes are glued to the pages of a red leather bound book. The book is old, with pages that have already yellowed and ornate writing that even she has trouble understanding. It is full of sketches of the human body, notes, and scraps that look like they were torn from other books. It was sent to the doctor a few months ago, from someone who claimed to be a friend. She didn’t trust it, but the doctor took to the book and its information immediately, as he would with anything relating to his...research.

“Doctor Jones?”

“Hmm?” He doesn’t take his eyes off the his current page.

Elizabeth frowns. “Doctor Jones, your breakfast is waiting for you.”

He lifts a hand and waves, a sign of dismissal. “I’ll get to it in five minutes.”

Her frown deepens into a scowl, and one of her eyebrows starts to twitch. _Workaholic moron._

Taking a deep breath, Elizabeth walks over and places her hand on the book, blocking the page from view. Dr. Jones starts, then gives her a sharp glare, his blue eyes narrowing behind round rim glasses. Elizabeth meets him with a cool gaze of her own, even as he stands up and takes advantage of how tall he is compared to her.

Finally, Dr. Jones sighs and breaks off from the stare. “Fine, fine. I’ll go eat your damn food.”

Elizabeth gives him a bright smile. “Thank you, sir. Right this way.”

“Wow, you actually didn’t mess it up this time. Coffee’s even better,” he comments when he starts eating. “Good job, Miss Kirkland.”

Though her left eyebrow twitches, Elizabeth continues smiling and keeps her hands folded behind her back. “Thank you, sir.”

_Wanker._

“You fed Wilson too, right?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. We don’t want a repeat of last time,” Dr. Jones frowns in memory.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Madeline comments. “I wouldn’t mind it happening again.”

He snorts. “You wouldn’t.”

“Hey, don’t sneer like that, Al. I need some excitement in my life. Other than watching you do illegal experiments, I mean.”

“Speaking of which,” Elizabeth starts. “We made the front page again.”

He smiles. “Did we? Do they suspect anyone yet?”

“According to the article, no,” she replies. “But I think we should be cautious all the same. Perhaps wait a long while before the next experiment.”

“If we’ll need one.”

Elizabeth and Madeline blink, then stare as the doctor smirks at the two of them.

“If the book is right—and it has been so far—then tonight’s results will be a success.” He casts a pointed look at Madeline. “When that’s done, we’ll head to phase two.”

Her violet eyes widen, as well as her grin. Elizabeth has a feeling that if Madeline could jump in glee, she would.

“Wait, does that mean—?” Elizabeth can’t help but cast a glance at the metal container with a glass cover and shudder at what’s inside.

“That’s right, Miss Kirkland. Oh, don’t look so worried, you should feel proud.” Dr. Alfred Jones smirks wider, his blue eyes shining. “You are, after all, going to witness me reanimating the dead.”

**Author's Note:**

> Happy October (since Halloween is still pretty far away)!
> 
> So, this is something I came up with early this morning, at about five o'clock (I just woke up and couldn't go back to sleep), after thinking about pulp fiction and how speculative/science fiction just seemed to thrive in the genre. Then I just randomly contemplated the headcanon everyone seems to have about America and his love for science. What if his interest in science was...wrong in some way or fashion? Then I started thinking about female England, who I love experimenting with (sorry), and how she could play a role in such a setting. And what about everyone else?
> 
> This was actually supposed to be crackier, it really was. I mean, I'd originally planned for there to be some tentacle porn in here somewhere—you know, with the explanation being that it would be Wilson's way of greeting someone new, or thanking someone—but considering the direction I'm going with it, it just wouldn't be appropriate. This will have some cracky, tilt-your-head-to-see-the-humor funny moments, but it will also be dark, as it should be. And there will also be some level of plot.
> 
> And maybe if I feel especially ridiculous, there will be some porn. Probably involving a female France.
> 
> That being said, the updates will probably be sporadic, because of my many ideas. For that, I apologize in advance.
> 
> Also, there will be cheese. Approach cheesiness with caution.


End file.
